The Bridge

The Executor

In orbit around Kuat

3 months later

Darth Vader stood staring out the front viewscreen of the bridge as Admiral Piett continued his report.

"Either pirates, or the Rebel Alliance, have been capturing shipments of tydirium ore at 50% above the usual rate in the last several months, my Lord, which is indeed a substantial increase. Given the Kuat shipyards need tydirium for the manufacture of phrik, this is a substantial concern."

The Sith glanced at his admiral, "What do you suggest, Piett?"

"I believe, my Lord ..." the man began hesitantly, and then stopped when Vader suddenly whipped around suddenly to stare at the young ensign who had appeared on the bridge behind them both.

"Ensign?" Piett demanded with a mixture of anger and worry. "What is the meaning of this interruption?"

The ensign, a young man with dark blond hair and blue eyes, saluted even as his face grew apologetic, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, my Lord, Admiral. Lord Vader, you ordered that you be informed when your personal decorators completed phase 1 in your quarters."

There was a long pause, before the Sith repeated in a measured tone, "My personal decorators."

"Yes, my Lord," the youth responded respectfully, his face amazingly calm. Piett, on the other hand, was shaking surreptitiously in his boots. This kid was going to get killed, right here, right now, on the bridge. Personal decorators? Lord Vader would not ...

"Very well, Ensign. I will accompany you now," Vader said.

He turned to Piett so quickly that the admiral barely got his hanging mouth closed, "Admiral, write a report on potential solutions for the loss of tydirium ore shipments in Hutt space."

"Yes, my Lord."

Piett stared openly as Vader accompanied the slight young ensign off the bridge.

Personal decorators?

/-

"What do you mean by personal decorators?" Vader asked as softly as he could, even as he followed his son toward his quarters.

"You'll see," Luke responded both enigmatically and ominously.

They reached Vader's quarters just as the doors slid open. Luke strode in, followed more hesitantly by Vader, who then stopped in disbelief.

He had personally designed the front room of his quarters to be simple and spartan, with black floors, black walls, and large transparisteel windows which were obsessively cleaned by small droids.

Now there was a large black box on repulsors sitting in the middle of the room, and Leia Organa was kneeling before it, plumbing its sinister depths. The young woman was dressed in the uniform of an Imperial lieutenant, and had thrown her cap on the floor.

She abruptly stood up with a vase of purple stalistis in her hands, even as Ahsoka Tano, dressed in a dark robe, stepped out of the never used refresher in the corner of the room, with a vase of pink stalistis in her own tight grip.

"I cannot possibly be expected to work here without some redecorating, Lord Vader," Leia snapped indignantly, "So you'll just have to live with it. What is your problem, anyway? This place is like a mausoleum! I would have at least expected the lightsabers of Jedi you murdered to be hanging from the walls or something, but no, nothing!"

"Work?" Vader demanded, completely confused.

"I think it's fine, Leia," Luke said in a soothing tone, as he looked around appraisingly. "Very manly, with strong clean lines. And no sand, anywhere."

"Sand sand sand," Leia said crabbily, even as she and Ahsoka moved a small repulsor into one corner of the room and carefully placed a vase of stalistis on it. "You complain so much about sand, Luke."

"Says the pampered little princess whose only exposure to sand was on a beach next to an ocean," Luke shot back, even as he amicably helped move repulsors into the other corners, to be decorated with more vases of flowers. "You have no idea how lousy and irritating and coarse and pervasive the sands of Tatooine are."

The two continued verbally sparring (obviously for fun) even as they, and Tano, continued pulling flowers out of the box and decorating the room.

Vader just stood, bewildered, shocked, startled, and unnerved.

After Leia and Ahsoka had fussily moved the flowers around ("The red looks just fine next to purple, Leia." "No, I don't like it!") for far too long, there came a strange moment when all was silent.

Luke watched Leia, an amused look on his face, as she spun around carefully and finally nodded firmly, "Ok, that's good!"

She turned and lifted her chin with determination, gazing directly into Darth Vader's black mask.

"I'm ready now."

The Sith Lord stared back at her, unsure of what to say. He felt horribly guilty about what he had done to his daughter on the Death Star. He could see Padme in his daughter's face. How could he have been so blind?

There was little he could do to make up for hours of torture at his hands, but if Leia wanted to redecorate his quarters with Padme's favorite flowers (and here he swallowed, hard) he would survive it.

"It is lovely, Princess Leia," he said carefully. "Thank you."

The girl looked surprised, then tossed her head a little, "The flowers are for me, not you, Lord Vader. I can't work on healing your lungs surrounded by boring, black walls. This place stinks of the Dark Side but I can focus on the Light if I've got some flowers around me."

"Healing me!?" Vader repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, that's why we're here," Luke explained cheerfully. "Didn't I say that?"

Vader shook his head slowly, in bewilderment, "No, you did not. And ... and ... Princess, I appreciate the thought, but I cannot ask this of you."

Leia stepped forward two paces and lifted one small, elegant finger to jab it into his breast plate, "This is not for you, Lord Vader. I assure you of that. I'm doing it because Luke asked me to. I'm doing it for him."

The Sith shook his head again, "I ... I cannot ..."

Leia looked resigned, "Luke, give Lord Vader 'the Look'."

The father glanced at his son and froze in astonishment. Luke was standing very still, his shoulders drooping, his blue eyes big, his face piteous, his pupils dilating, his expression yearning.

"I can't say no to that face," Leia admitted.

Luke straightened and his face morphed into its normal cheerful expression.

"Not many people can," he claimed confidently.

Vader was so bewildered and yes, dismayed, he didn't know where to start.

"Luke, much as I, ah, appreciate your concern for me, I do not feel you should pressure your sister ..."

Leia spoke up, "Lord Vader, I am entirely willing, actually. Luke says, and perhaps he is correct, that you'll be less cruel and homicidal if you don't feel rotten all of the time."

The Dark Lord frowned to himself, initially indignant, then reluctantly impressed. There was validity to this. On days when his biological innards hurt more than usual, when his rhythmic breathing pounded in his head like so many drums, he was more inclined to kill and torment others.

Which said something thoroughly unpleasant about his character. But then he was an evil, horrible person, a man who had attacked his own wife when she was pregnant with his unborn twins. He didn't deserve ...

In the midst of his mental self-flagellation, he missed his twins moving closer and was startled when four hands (Luke's small, Leia's even smaller) were carefully laid on his chest.

The two, one brunette, one dark blond, leaned their heads together so they were touching, even as they closed their eyes and focused.

The warmth in his chest came much more quickly this time and with tremendous power. The Sith tensed involuntarily at the Light filling his body, warring briefly with the Darkness before the Darkness shrank away, hissing irritably.

Incredulous, Vader watched his oxygen blood saturation levels. They had been consistently 97% since Luke had helped him on Mustafar. Now he watched them climb to 98%, 99%, 100%, 101%, 102%.

He began to feel light headed, even swayed slightly, and found Ahsoka at his side, holding him up.

"I think you might need to turn down your oxygen support, Skyguy," she murmured softly.

With some difficulty, Vader focused and lowered the amount of oxygen being forced into his lungs. After a minute, his blood saturation dropped back to 99%, and his brain cleared.

Luke and Leia abruptly dropped their hands and opened their eyes. They looked at one another and grinned.

"We could go into business," Luke said confidently.

The girl's eyebrows lifted, "Yes, we can travel the galaxy healing people who have fallen into lava. It's a huge market."

Her brother grinned back, "Good point."

The boy grew serious now, "Thank you, Leia."

"I did it for you," she returned gravely, then looked appraisingly at the looming Sith, "So I sensed substantial improvement?"

Vader was so dumfounded that he could not speak for a long moment. His eyes itched, wanting to tear up, but his tear ducts had given up the ghost 19 years earlier.

"Yes ... yes, it is ... it is a miracle. I was told that nothing could be done. You truly have great power."

"In the Light Side," Luke said in a minatory tone.

The Dark Lord shrugged, "You would be strong in the Dark as well, but ... I will admit the Dark does not lend itself to healing."

"The Dark Side stinks," Luke responded gloomily, before looking at his sister. "We need to go if you're going to make that meeting, Leia."

"Yes," his twin agreed, even as she used the Force to put the top back on the box.

She turned back to her biological sire with a frown crinkling her smooth forehead, "Do you have any clue what to do with these flowers? They need watering twice a day and if treated well, will beautify these quarters for two weeks. Can you manage that?"

Vader stared at her for a long moment, then ducked his head slightly, "Your mother's favorite flowers were stalistis so yes, I'm aware of their care."

Leia's eyes teared slightly, "I didn't know that. Thank you for telling us that detail about Padme."

"Not the sort of thing Obi-Wan would know," Luke pointed out.

"True," Leia agreed. She turned to go, just as Vader found his voice to ask.

"How will you safely depart this ship?"

The girl turned back, fixed a cold and frightening stare on her father's mask, and hissed, "If we told you that, we'd have to dispose of you."

She then placed her cap on her head and marched for the door.

Luke grinned sympathetically at his father, "Don't ask."

Darth Vader was shaken. If looks could kill ...

"Very well, I withdraw the question."

The boy smiled and threw his arms around his father.

Darth Vader returned the embrace, then watched as Ahsoka and the twins strode confidently out of the room.

Thirty minutes later, he was still standing, deep in thought, when the door chimed.

He gestured with the Force to find Admiral Piett standing at the door.

"Enter, Admiral."

The man stepped in with his head down, staring at a holopad, "My Lord, I have the preliminary report about the depredations on tydirium shipments ..."

The admiral's voice faded away as he observed the flowers filling the room, as he observed his lord and master standing, oddly silent, in the middle of the room.

"What do you think, Admiral?"

Piett opened his mouth, shut it, opened it, shut it again, and finally managed to say, unsteadily, "It is lovely, my Lord."

Vader nodded, as if satisfied, even as he gestured for the holopad. It flew out of Piett's nerveless hand and into his own. He glanced at it briefly, then sent it drifting to the desk against the wall, one holding 3 vases of stalistis.

"I will review your report later, Admiral. You are dismissed."

The admiral turned like an automaton and left the room. He proceeded toward the bridge, hesitated, then made a hard right toward the counseling center in the medical wing of the ship.

Fifteen minutes, he was in his happy place, curled up on a comfortable chair, clutching a stuffed loth-bat plush and speaking to a sympathetic counselor droid.

"I am not sure how long I can cope! I understand his anger, and the Force chokes. I can handle that. But flowers? That's the last straw. I'm losing my mind ..."

Author Note: Where is Sidious in all this? Oh, I don't know. It's crack! Thanks again to those of you reading, following, and reviewing. And thank you to my wonderful husband and editor.